


Light of Sahar

by TheRookieKing412



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRookieKing412/pseuds/TheRookieKing412
Summary: It wasn't fair, he was just a boy, but there was nothing she could do as the guard raised the whip high above his head to strike the little boy again until her mother intervened. There was not much her mother could do, either... But her mother had always been quick on her feet. "My daughter needs a slave. Someone to protect her and watch over her."





	Light of Sahar

In a small country, in the middle of Europe there were three kingdoms, and for hundreds of years they had been in a constant struggle.

It was with great efforts, that the three kingdoms came together, struggled for peace, and in the end, came to an agreement. There would be no more war, no more conflict, so long as all three kingdoms didn’t pick up their swords to fight. 

And the peace lasted generations, but conflict will always arise when those in power grow restless.

It was her first time in the court of the Rabe Kingdom, small and unsure, as nobles from the Kingdom, dressed in the colors of their crest, colors of the nighttime sky, flittered around the room. Keeping their eyes away from the young Lady and the bright colors she and her mother wore. 

“Stay close to me.” Her mother had said before they entered. “If you get lost, they may keep you!” 

The Princess tickled her daughter’s sides, and she gave her a happy grin, but the young Lady couldn’t be too sure now that it was only a joke, seeing the cold distant faces that surrounded her. 

She could tell who was more important just by the color they wore on their clothes. 

The servants, keeping to the corners and dimly lit areas of the room, wore dirty grey, covered in white aprons. 

The Barons and Baronesses wore all black.

The Viscounts and Viscountesses displayed their violet handkerchiefs whenever they could, wearing them on their wrists, tucked into their sleeves and bracelets. 

The Earls and Countesses were allowed to wear the purple accents on the tips of their skirts and cloaks.

The Marquesses and Marchionesses wore purple stripes, thin but still there. 

The Dukes and Duchesses were almost completely covered in purple, but black remained the base color. 

There were no Princes, no Princesses, but the young Lady was sure they would have looked the same as the King. 

The Raven King wore a suit made of violet, his cape the same deep hue, and the crown he wore on his head was heavy with amethyst stones.

The young Lady felt misplaced in her pale colors, the blues and whites she wore compared to the darkness that surrounded her. 

She clung to her mother's hand as they made their way to greet the King, her mother had said that these parties were important, a way to keep the ties tight between their three kingdoms. 

This year in Rabe, the next in Schwan, and last year in her own kingdom, Pekin.

Last year, it didn’t matter where she was, she didn’t have to be in court, but this year, as her mother had told her, was a very important year. 

She had turned seven last spring, and it was time for her to start becoming more than just a young Lady, but the Princess, soon to inherit the throne. 

But, she didn’t want the throne.

Her mother stood before the King and curtsied, and her daughter followed. 

“Raven, another year as your loyal friend has gone by.”

“And may the next pass with ease.” Raven respond. “Who is this, Tutu?”

“My daughter, it is her first time in the court.” 

“I welcome you.” He said, although his tone was soft and gentle, his countenance remained throny, and the young Lady grew scared of him. 

Her mother made a final bow, her daughter with her, and they departed, behind them, the King and Queen of Schwan, their son with them. 

Her mother made her way around the room, talking with the nobles, taking small sips from a goblet, not paying attention to her daughter. 

The young Lady sighed, the nobles, in their dark attire, were not as fearsome as she once thought, and she grew tired of hiding in her mother’s skirts, she wanted to leave, to walk around the room, and play. 

And she found her playing companion. 

At the edge of the room, a young girl in a grey dress followed a maid around, too scared to perform her own duties, and too scared to wander off. 

The young Lady smiled, she stepped away from her mother’s skirts, and when she didn’t notice, the young Lady ran off, hoping to pull the young girl outside. 

She bounded up behind the girl and tapped her shoulder twice. 

“Hi.” She smiled.

The young girl didn’t smile back. 

“What’s your name?”

“Rue.” The young girl said. “I’m not supposed to talk to anybody.”

“That’s okay, I’m not anybody.”

“You’re the princess, I’m especially not supposed to talk to you.” 

The young Lady pouted. “I just wanted to play. Don’t you want to play tag?”

Rue shifted from foot to foot, she looked behind her and when she saw she was abandoned by the maid she followed, she pushed the young Lady’s shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!”

“Cheater! You got a head start!” The young Lady ran after her. 

“Your Grace.” A Duke said to the Princess of Pekin. “Isn’t that your young running amuck?”

The Princess looked to where he pointed in disgusted. “Yes, yes it is.”

“And you’re not going to punish her for running off?” A Countess asked. “And for playing with a servant child no less.” 

“I shall give her a strict lashing in the confines of our home.” The Princess said, but only to appease them. “If she starts crying it would only interrupt us.” 

The young Lady chased Rue out of the ballroom, chasing her down hallways and down stairs until they got to a dark and grim place. 

“Got you!” The young Lady said, slapping the back of Rue’s shoulder. “Rue?” 

“I’m sorry. We’re not supposed to be down here.” 

The Princess looked around her, around the room, but found her daughter to be missing, she swallowed hard. She had warned her not to wander off, her only hope would be that not everyone was as bloodthirsty as their King was. 

“I beg your pardon.” She said, cutting into their laughter. “There are matters I must discuss with the Queen of Schwan. Excuse me.”

“Where are we?” The young Lady asked, the corridor lit only by the torches of fire that lined the wall.

“The dungeon.” Rue whispered. “We’re not supposed to be down-”

There was a scream, a harsh horrible scream that stopped Rue short.

She gasped, and tried to pull the young Lady away. “We have to get out before they find us!” 

“That- that sounded like a little boy.” The young Lady said, and found herself walking away from where the came, and deeper into the corridor. 

“Don’t! Please!” Rue groaned, she looked back to the staircase that lead down, lit with the dregs of sunlight, and followed the young Lady. 

The sound of a whip grew louder, and so did the screams. 

The young Lady picked up her skirts and ran towards the sound, and Rue followed after. 

The Princess turned to the servants, standing against the walls, they had seen her daughter alright, running straight into the dungeon. 

There was a light at the end of the tunnel, brighter than the rest of the dungeon, and from there the screams, the whipping and the sound of crying grew louder. 

The Princess saw his arm rise, the whip ready to strike down.

“Stop!” The Princess came, pulling her daughter into her arms. “I told you not to leave my side!” 

“I’m sorry mama!” She cried. “But, look, they’re hurting someone.” 

The Princess looked into the last cell, inside there were three people, a man, a prison guard, and a young boy. 

The young boy spoke out against the guard in a language the Princess was unfamiliar with, but she could see the resemblance the boy and the man on the floor shared. 

“Mama, they’re hurting him.” She cried. 

The Princess looked at the man on the ground, he didn’t move, blood covered his body and breath had left it. His son covered his father’s body with his own, he had been whipped across the back, not like his father had, but it would still scar.

“Stop.” She cried. “Please, sir. Stop.”

The prison guard looked at her. “And why should I? I have direct orders from the King to-”

“And now you are receiving orders from me-” She couldn’t tell him to stop, even if she still had power over this guard, she was still under the power of Rabe, if she ordered him to stop, Rabe would only make it worse for the boy after she left. No, she had to think of a punishment just as good as the one the boy was receiving. 

“My daughter needs a slave. Someone to protect her and watch over her.” She said. “Let me take that- nuisance off your hands.”

“Pekin’s don’t have slaves, not like we do.” He said. 

“And you think you know everything about Pekin’s?” She asked, allowing her voice to cool. “Pray tell, what do you know about Pekin’s. I’m sure I can prove it wrong.”

“We know how to keep a slave from runnin’ off, how to punish them if they do. How to keep ‘em in line, and such.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And you think we don’t?”

“Ask the King for ‘em. Until then-” The man raised his whip.

She set down her daughter and stood in front of the man. “I gave you an order, unless you would like to tell your King why you disobeyed me, his confidante, I suggest you put that away.”

The man blanched, apparently, having the King as a friend wasn’t as bad as she thought.

“Take ‘im.” The guard dropped his whip to the ground and left the dungeon. Probably to go tell on her.

“Thank you.” The Princess turned to the young boy and tried to pull him away from his father, but he yelled, punching her and kicking.

The young Lady rubbed the tears from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Rue said, stepping out from behind the young Lady. “I didn’t mean to bring her down here.”

“It’s quite alright, I’m glad you did. Probably saved this poor boy from an early grave.” The Princess was able to calm the boy, and she pulled him to her chest, he was silent, he didn’t want the three girls around him see that he was crying. The Princess rubbed his back nonetheless. 

The Princess hid him in her quarters, she had her personal servant tend to his wound, and made sure he was kept a secret, she didn’t know why he was there, but she was sure Rabe would want him back. 

Her daughter, however, was having a marvelous time. 

“What’s your name?” She asked his second day in their apartments. 

He said something she didn’t understand. 

“Your name.” She pointed at his chest. “What do people call you? Your mama? Your papa?”

He flinched at that word, perhaps it was the same in hers as it was in his. 

She sighed. “What’s your name?”

He shook his head. He said something. 

She pointed to herself. “Ahiru.”

She repeated it again, and pointed to him. 

“Ahiru.” He said.

“Yeah! That's my name!” 

He flinched away, nothing had been quite as loud as her excitement. 

“Name.” She said. “Ahiru.” She pointed to him. 

He put his hand to his chest. She nodded. 

“Amyr Fakir.”

“Amyr? That’s a funny name.” She said. “Where are you from, Amyr?”

He gave her a blank stare. 

“Fakir.” He said. He pointed to himself. 

“Oh! Your name is Fakir?”

He nodded once, though whether he actually understood her, she didn’t know. 

When they left the Rabe Kingdom, the Princess was careful, “Don’t let him be seen.” She had told her servants; told her daughter. 

And, they hid him, stuffed him away under their clothes and trunks, it wasn’t until they were a mile out that Ahiru pulled him out, and soon they were home. 

Ahiru smiled and pulled him around, she would point to things and tell him what they where. 

They spent the whole summer running around the palace, laughing and playing together, not understanding a word the other said. 

When the fall came, her tutors came as well, and she begged her mother to have them teach Fakir as well. 

“At least have them teach him our language! I want to talk with him!” 

Her mother agreed and while she was being taught literature, math, and science, he was taught her language. 

By winter, he understood the basics, and could carry a conversation, until she spoke too quickly for him to understand. 

“How do you like living here?”

“I like it. It’s colder than where I am from.” 

“And the food? Do you like the food?”

He shook his head. “No. The food here is bland.”

She laughed. “That’s not our fault, we don’t get the same spices as places like China or India, although Mama says we just have to deal with what we have, what we don’t know won’t hurt us, right?”

He looked at her, trying to keep up with her and her quick tongue. “Sorry, what did you say?”

She would always repeat herself for him.

By Spring she was eight, and found that he was better at what she was supposed to be learning than she was herself, and whenever she didn’t understand anything, she went to him. 

By Summer, she went to the Schwan court, unable to take him with her, he was left at the palace for a week.

She returned, and when she did, he greeted her at the door, he had something to show her. 

“Where I come from, many people have talents, and they use them for their benefit.” He told her, it was late at night, they both wore their nightgowns, holding a candle in each hand, they weren’t supposed to be in each other’s rooms, but Ahiru found herself spending many late nights with him after they were supposed to be asleep. 

“Where I come from we call it sahar.” He held out his hand, and in it popped up a dog, made of light, shining brighter than their two candles combined.

She gasped, her eyes growing wide. “Teach me! I want to do that!”

He dropped his hand and the dog disappeared. “Not everyone can do it. At home, my mother had tutors teaching me how, ever since I was little.”

“Littler, you mean.” She smiled. 

“Yes, littler. You can try, but it’ll be hard.” 

“Please?” She poked out her bottom lip.

“Ugh, fine. Hold out your hand.”

She did.

“Think of something that makes you happy.”

She screwed her eyes tightly and thought of her mother, of the pond filled with ducks, of Fakir and her playing together. 

“Look!” 

She opened her eyes and in the palm of her hand was a tiny, dim light, floating above her skin, it felt warm, but gentle. 

“You can do it, too.” He smiled. “Fine, I will teach you.” 

She bounced on the balls of her feet.

“But tomorrow, it’s already late.”

Everyday after bedtime, Fakir snuck into her room and had her hold out her hand, and by Spring they lit up her room with animals marching across her ways. 

“What else can you do with magic?” 

“Lots of things, you can disguise yourself into other things, you can make objects appear or disappear, but it can only be used to do things that make you happy. If you try to use magic in bitterness and anger, it doesn’t work.” 

She nodded. 

“Isn’t your birthday tomorrow?”

“It is!”

In the summer, Rabe and the Schwan’s came to the palace in Pekin’s. The first day, Ahiru stood next to her mother, she wore a small crown on her head, and curtsied to those who came to greet her mother. 

No one spoke to her, and she preferred it that way. 

When Rabe came, he bowed a shallow bow, his eyes fell on Ahiru, but they didn’t linger. 

They stayed for a week, and while Ahiru thought that week was uninfluential, it unlocked a great and terrible rage inside of Rabe’s heart. 

Years ago, he had lost a prisoner of war, an important piece that would have given him the most delicious leverage. But he lost it. 

He had to claw his way out of that pit, but the missing piece left the Bilut Kingdom in shatters, still an advantage. 

While he stayed in the Pekin’s Palace, strolling along the too brightly lit hallways, he saw his missing piece. 

With the little Princess no less. 

She laughed and smiled as she ran away, and he chased after her. 

Rabe scowled, so this is what became of his plan? The kingpin had been taken out, and placed in the hands of a foolish little girl. 

“Fakir, look, they’re leaving!” Ahiru sighed in relief, she stuck her tongue out at the line of carriages that trailed out of her kingdom.

He nodded, but didn’t smile. 

“Fakir? What’s wrong?” She turned around, and when she saw that he didn’t rejoice with her, she grew concerned. “They’re leaving, we don’t have to be careful anymore.”

“When where you going to tell me?” 

“Tell you what?”

Fakir clenched his fists, he pulled up the back of his shirt, not to show her his scar, but a bruise, left by one of King Rabe’s servants. 

“Who did this?”

“I’m a slave.” He let his shirt go. “I’m your slave.” He glowered down at her. “You didn’t think that was important to tell me?”

“You’re not a slave to me, you’re my friend.”

“What does that matter! Everyone else will treat me like a slave, it doesn’t matter what I am to you.” He turned his back to her. 

She opened and closed her mouth to console him. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret, it wasn’t supposed to be one, but she never found it necessary to tell him. 

“What happened?” She asked. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Fakir sat down in the grass, he drew his legs to his chest. 

She sat down next to him. “Yes, I would.”

“A servant of Rabe caught me taking food from the kitchen. He asked me if I had permission to do so. I said no. He told me a slave must always have permission to take food, to go to the bathroom, to go to bed, to do anything. When I turned my back, he kicked me to the ground.”

She sat beside him, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen to you.” 

He scoffed. 

“I don’t want you to be my slave. I just wanted to save you.”

“Save me from what?” 

“That day. When we found you, you were getting whipped and I wanted it to stop, but mama couldn’t just ask him to stop. It would be considered treason. She asked for you to be my slave instead.” 

“I don’t want to be a slave.” 

She nodded. “Then I’ll free you.”

“No.”

“But, mama, I don’t need a slave.” 

“Ahiru, it’s not that simple.” Her mother rubbed her forehead, they stood in her private library, away from prying eyes. “I know- I know for a fact that Rabe saw him. The only thing that’s keeping him here is that he’s your slave.” 

“There’s nothing I can do?”

Her mother sighed. “There are rumors- Rumors that our kingdoms aren’t safe. That Rabe has been conducting a war in secret with the kingdom of Bilut. We must be cautious. Rabe has always been bloodthirsty, and so have his people, I can’t imagine what would happen if-” 

There was a knock at the door.

The Princess cleared her throat. “Enter.”

A servant came in and handed the Princess a letter. “From the Schwan kingdom.”

She opened it, scanning the lines. “There’s been an attack… The King-” She put a hand to her mouth. “The King is Dead.” 

Ahiru looked up to her mother. “What?” 

“Half of their army was wiped out, they want to recruit knights, anyone from our kingdom willing to fight.” She folded the letter. “Take my daughter to her room.”

The servant nodded and lead Ahiru out, her last glimpse of her mother where the sobs she was trying so hard to contain. 

Over the next few weeks, Ahiru had learned about what had happened in the Schwan Kingdom. 

Their Kingdom had been attacked in the middle of the night by a flagless army, any knights awake did their best to stand against them, but they were too little a number standing against too great a foe. 

The palace was ransacked, only the Prince and his mother remained, they mourned the loss of the King, and were left with only a quarter of their army.

The Prince sent out a desperate letter to both Penkin and Rabe Kingdom in hopes that he would be sent more soldiers so in the event that attack would happen again, they would stand a chance. 

The devastation gave Ahiru an idea. 

“He can become a knight.” She told her mother. “And then he would have a better status than a slave and he would be under the control of the Schwan kingdom. He’d be safe there too.” 

Her mother nodded. “Yes, and then if Rabe grows suspicious, I can tell him we are lending him to Mytho until the threat is over.” 

Ahiru smiled, she would lose her best friend, but it was her one wish for him to be free. 

Fakir stood in her room, telling her to practice her sahar on a nightly basis so as not to forget. 

“Can I write you letters?” She asked him.

He nodded. “Of course. Here, I want to give you something.”

“What?” She hopped down from her bed and came to stand beside him. 

From his neck, he pulled off a red pendant. “This is- was my father’s. Have it.” 

She smiled and nodded. “Here.” She went to her jewelry box and pulled out an emerald brooch. “My father, before he died, wore this to fasten his cloak.” 

“A fair trade.” Fakir smiled. 

She smiled back and pulled the necklace over her head.

“I’ll miss you.” She said, hugging him.

“Ahiru.” He scolded, but hugged her back. 

He left the next day, to the Schwan kingdom, to become a knight. 

She wrote him a letter every day, and every day she didn’t send a letter, she made up for it by writing her next letter twice as long. 

He would write back, not as frequently as she, but he would try to respond to everything she had written to him, even if he had to learn how to write smaller. 

She told him about how her studies turned from math and science, to governing and social science. 

He would tell her about how heavy a sword was. 

She attended her first ball, a test to see how well her communication skills would hold up, if she was civil and sweet. 

He told her about the Prince Siegfried - called Mytho - and how he was studying swordsmanship like the others, he was funny and quick witted, and in him Fakir found a friend. 

She told him about the offers of marriage that started to come, both from her kingdom and from others. 

He told her he would beat up anyone who tried to take her away from him. 

She told him about how much she missed him, and how her sahar wasn’t as bright without him there. 

He told her of his adventures as a knight, the daring quests and vicious monsters he defeated, all in her name. The friends he made in the other knights.

She told him that her attention was being stretched all over the place, she barely had time to write. 

He told her the same. 

She told him about the day her grandfather died, and her mother was crowned Queen and she was made the official Princess. 

He didn’t respond. 

She wrote to him about her first ball being announced as Princess Ahiru Armia, future Queen of Pekin’s Kingdom. 

He told her he was proud. 

A year had passed, with no letters between them. 

Ahiru now stood as the Princess of Pekin’s, she looked out the window, to the walls that surrounded her kingdom, imagining one of the twelve gates opening, a horse riding in with one sole knight. 

“Princess are you listening?” 

Ahiru turned to Miss. Edel. “Yes, I’m sorry.” She took one last glance out the window and saw something strange, what looked like a person coming over the wall. 

She wore her peasant clothes, a plain dress and a brown cloak, when pulled over, disguised her face from onlookers, they did not see the Princess, but an illusion. 

She walked through the marketplace, looking for some telltale sign that would lead her to the person that jumped over the wall, what should have been an impossible feat, so easily accomplished. 

“No, please! I didn’t steal it!” 

Ahiru turned her head, looking for the cry of a young woman. 

“It was in you hand, was it not?” There was a large man, his head above the rest of the crowd, and Ahiru pushed her way towards him.

“I can buy it! I have money, just let me go!” 

He laughed, “Unlikely! In these hard times, we can’t just let anyone go.”

Ahiru made her way into the small circle that watched the performance unhindered by other spectors. She watched the young woman, there was a loaf of bread dropped to the floor, her wrist twisted up, and the man leered down at her, Ahiru saw the small dagger on his waistband. 

She tried her best to conjure happy thoughts, her mother, Fakir, to bring the dagger to her, but something stopped her, when she looked at the young woman, who until now, had been mostly blocked from view by her attacker. 

It was the little servant girl Ahiru always played with when she went to the Rabe Kingdom.

Happy thoughts filled her as she remembered chasing Rue up and down corridors, when they were a bit older, teaching each other how to properly curtsy and making flower crowns. Her hand grew heavy, and when she looked down she saw she carried the dagger in her hand.

“I’ve had enough of you!” The man cried, he reached for his belt, the dagger.

“Sir, I recommend you let her go.” Ahiru said, immulating her mother the best she could, her calm, cool words, her brave mannerisms. 

“Oh, do I have to listen to a little girl now?” He laughed, and the crowd with him.

“No.” Ahiru took off her hood, taking away the concealment. “I expect you to listen to your Princess.” 

The crowd was silent, only murmurs could be heard from them, but soon they all knelt down around her. 

The man looked worried, as the crowd shortened, two of the palace guards could finally see what was happening. 

“Look, it’s Ah- the Princess.” They stared to make their way through the crowd.

The man growled, and let Rue’s wrist go. “Fine.”

Ahiru smiled, she held Rue’s hand and pulled her away, to the palace guards, they were escorted back to the palace. 

“What are you doing here?” Ahiru asked, but she was smiling. 

Rue smiled, but it wasn’t as happy as Ahiru’s was. “Have you heard about the rumors?”

“The rumors?”

“Yes, the ones about Rabe, how he’s leading a war against the Bilut Kingdom.”

“Oh. Yes, I have heard.”

“They’re true, and everyday it gets worse, more men are taken to the front lines.” Rue said, she shook her head. “They took my father.” 

“Oh, Rue, I’m so sorry.” Ahiru patted Rue’s hand. 

“My mother told me to escape, to come here, she knew I had a friend here, that I’d be safe.” Rue said, she kept her eyes on the ground, watching where they walked. 

“She was right.” 

Rue was a welcomed guest, a friend to the Princess, and she stayed for three years, she attended the balls as Ahiru’s guest, and ate at her right hand. 

She never felt more loved than she had here. 

Which troubled her. 

One night, late as it was, she snuck across the palace into Ahiru’s room, she didn’t knock, thinking the Princess would be asleep, and did not expect to find the Princess awake. 

And floating a dagger in mid air.

The dagger clattered to the ground, and Ahiru gasped. “Rue! Oh, you weren’t supposed to see that!” 

“Ahiru, what was that? What did you do?”

“It’s called sahar.” She said, she stooped to pick up the dagger. “I can do many things.”

Rue swallowed. “Ahiru, I came to tell you something. To warn you.” 

“About what?” Ahiru asked, she smiled at Rue. 

“You’re not making this easy.” Rue groaned, rubbing her face with her hands. “Okay. I have to tell you. I was sent here, I didn’t come of my own freewill.”

“Yes, by your mother.”

“No, Ahiru I don’t have a mother, nor a father.”

“What? I don’t understand.” 

“Rabe sent me here. As a spy.” She looked away, unable to meet the eyes of the person that had been so kind to her. “I’ve been gathering intel about your kingdom, and giving it to him.” 

“Why would he need- why did you-?”

“The black army that attacked Schwan? That was him. He’s coming here. Tonight. He wants to destroy Pekin’s.” Rue was crying, tears slipped over her cheeks and her voice shook. 

“You? You’re leading them here?”

“Yes, but I want to lead you out. Before it’s too late, before they kill you.” Rue held out her hand.

Ahiru looked up at her, she trusted her friend, she loved Rue with all her heart, but, “What about my mother?”

Rue’s hand fell. “It’s too late.”

Ahiru took the dagger and her cloak and ran to her mother’s quarters, Rue chasing after her. 

“Wait!” Rue grabbed Ahiru’s arm before she rounded the corner. “You’ll get killed!” She hissed.

Ahiru couldn’t stop herself as she peered around the corner, the doors to her mother’s apartments opened and a man slinked out wearing only black.

“It’s too lat- Ahiru!” Rue tried to stop her, but Ahiru slipped out of her grasp. 

She bursted inside but Rue was right, it had been too late. 

Her mother laid on her bed, a sword in the middle of her chest. 

Ahiru covered her hand to hide the sobs and screaming, she fell to the ground, and Rue wrapped herself around the Princess. 

“We have to leave, please, Ahiru? Let me save you.” 

Ahiru nodded. 

Rue led her back to her room and they put on clothes that would mark them as peasants. Ahiru pulled her cloak over her head, and tucked her pendant into her dress, hidden from sight. She turned to leave, but grabbed the dagger, stashing it away in her belt. 

They left the palace, out a secret tunnel that not even Rue knew about, leading them outside of the city’s walls.

When Ahiru looked back, she heard the screaming of her people, she saw fire burning into the night sky. 

She had lost everything, and there was nothing she could do to stop the guilt.

She had abandoned her people.

Rue and Ahiru traveled for many days trying to find the Schwan kingdom, the last safe place they could go. 

Ahiru showed Rue the sahar she had learned, the light show, making things appear and disappear, wishing for anything to be in her hand and there it was, but she saved her best trick for last. 

“I’m hungry.” Rue had cried, more than once, that afternoon. “Are you sure we can’t eat the leaves?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Wait-” Ahiru listened, trying to find the babbling she heard. “I think there’s a stream over there.” 

“Stream means fish!” Rue cried, and together the two women ran after the sound, and their efforts rewarded them.

Rue fell to her knees, cupping her hands and taking in mouthfuls at a time. 

Ahiru scanned the water, looking for the fish she was sure the river was teeming with. 

“Look!” She cried. “They’re small, but if I catch a bunch, we’ll be good.” 

“How are you going to catch them?” Rue asked. 

Ahiru smiled, she closed her eyes and conjured her happiest thoughts, of being reunited with Fakir, seeing him smile at her once more, and she was able to turn into a duck. 

Rue gasped, for she didn’t see the duck, just that Ahiru had disappeared, her clothes falling to the ground as if no one had worn them. 

With a little bit of wiggling, she flew free and into the stream.

“You’re a duck!”

She quacked, one of the draw backs, she could never really talk to anyone as a duck, although it did keep her cover. 

They stayed by the river for a week, catching as many fish as they could, eating some, and smoking others in hopes that they would keep. 

But, the smoke attracted traffic. 

It was one of the days when Ahiru sat in the stream, diving her bill into the water and pulling out the tasty morsels, while Rue sat on the shore, tending the fire, making sure Ahiru’s clothes were safely folded and away from both the water and the fire, when they heard the horses. 

“Ahiru, stay out of sight.” Rue said, rising from her position.

Ahiru let the stream carry her down and away, it would seem too strange for a wild animal to be sitting so close to a human and a fire, but that put her at a disadvantage, she couldn’t see as well.

“Who are you?” A man asked. “Rabe or Schwan?”

“Neither.” Rue said. “Pekin’s.”

“So you escaped the fires?”

“Yes, we lost everything.” 

“What’s your name?”

“Rue, I am but a servant girl.”

“Rue, I am Prince Siegfried of the Schwan Kingdom.”

Ahiru started making her way back up the stream, hoping to see who the Prince was with. 

“Come with me, we are not but a mile away from my kingdom, I can offer you safety, you could stay with me.”

“I’m flattered, but-” Rue looked down the stream and saw Ahiru returning, Ahiru nodded her head. “I really shouldn’t leave this fire here.”

The Prince chuckled. “Sir Lysander, would help the lady clean up?” 

One of the knights dismounted, he took off his helmet and used it as a bucket to put out the fire.

“Thank you.” Rue said, she held Ahiru’s clothes in her hand, and the Prince offered his, She was pulled up onto his horse, seated in front of him. 

Ahiru got to shore, and watched as they kicked their horses into a full gallop, but one stayed behind, he looked around the stream, until his eyes landed on her. 

He didn’t stay, kicking his horse as well, he followed behind, fast enough to catch up with the rest. 

Ahiru spread her wings and started to fly over them, following from a safe distance. 

Rue was made a servant, but a personal servant to Prince Siegfried, and she only had to answer to him. 

She was given quarters close to his own, and she threw open the window, so Ahiru could land inside.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.” Rue held the duck close to her chest. “Here, I have your clothes.” 

Ahiru changed back, and slipped on her clothes. 

“You’ll be safe here?” Ahiru asked her. 

“Yes, I should be.”

Ahiru nodded. “Good, I don’t think I will be.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

“Back at the stream, one of his knights-” She shook her head. “It was like he could tell I was using sahar. I don’t know if it’s safe for me here.”

“So what will you do?” 

Ahiru did her best, she lived on her own, though for many months she would fly into Rue’s room and share her bed. She performed small jobs for people, mostly jobs no one wanted to do themselves, and became a jack of all trades. 

She never gave her real name, only calling herself Duck. 

“Have you tried calling Duck? She’s a wonderful weed picker.”

“Duck was amazing! Watching my little ones while I had to go to market, it was the fastest trip I had ever done, and when I came back, the house was spotless!” 

“I asked her to mend my clothes and by the next morning, everything was as good as new! Even clothes I didn’t ask her to mend! Look, I feel like a king!”

She had gained a reputation for herself, and with it, popularity, soon her name would be known by all in the kingdom; if only she hadn’t used her sahar, then her work wouldn’t have been as praised as it was. 

But, without the sahar, she never would have gotten anywhere. 

“But, Rue, what if Mytho wants Duck as one of his servants.” She moaned and wailed. 

“Would that be so bad? You’d be in the palace, not out there. And maybe he’ll recognize you.”

“No, I don’t think he will. I only ever bowed to him, we didn’t even look into each other’s eyes. Besides, I don’t look like a princess anymore.”

And she didn’t, her skin had tanned under her days in the sun, freckles sprouted across her nose and shoulders, her hair was always a mess, or pulled into a sloppy braid. 

“No, no one would think I was a Princess. Besides, they think I’m dead.”

“Those are rumors.” Rue said. “No one found your body, it can’t be true.”

“There were lots of bodies found, one of them could have easily been mine.” She sighed, falling back onto Rue’s bed. 

“Well, let’s not talk about that.”

“What should we talk about then?”

“How about the tournament? Are you going?”

Ahiru shook her head. “No, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“I am. I’ve been invited personally by Mytho, I’m going to sit in his box.” She smirked.

“Rue! You are?” Ahiru bounced up, grinning at Rue’s news. “See? I told you he loves you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Not just anyone gets to sit in the jousting boxes, especially in the King’s box.”

“Oh, and you would know?” Rue mocked, sticking out her tongue.

“I was a Princess for a time, yes.” She smiled.

“Go as a duck, sneak in and watch, I hear his best men are going to be competing. Lysander, Dylan, Autor, Fakir-”

“Fakir?” Ahiru’s heart started to pound. He was going to be there? 

“Do you know him?” Rue asked, an eyebrow cocked. 

“Maybe. It might not be him.”

Rue hummed, going back to her chores. 

Ahiru stood at the forest’s edge, looking at the tents and the crowds. Fakir would be in there, and she was desperate to see him. 

It had been five years since she had written to him last, and ten since he went away to become a knight. 

How had he changed? Who had he become? Was he the same boy that she spent her days with? Her nights with?

She had to find out, but she couldn’t very well go in like this, she would be seen, people would cry out her name, many would try to talk to her and ask for her assistance, pulling her away from the task at hand. 

No, she’d have to sneak in as a duck.

She pulled off her clothes, folding them nicely and tucking them into the branches of the tree she stood next to and allowed herself to turn into a duck.

She flew over most of the tents, landing in the middle of it all, when she saw a group of hunters, her heart pounded and she burrowed into the tent next to her, trying to escape their watchful eye.

The tent was empty, quickly pitched up, but still filled with modesty furniture. A table, a chair, a messy bed. She let herself wander around, looking at the deep green it all seemed to be, but not for long, there were sounds like laughing, like young men, and one came into her tent, she had to hide.

When the tent flaps closed behind him, his laughter stopped and he looked around. 

“Who’s in here?” He called out, his voice deep and cold.

Ahiru grew scared, but he wouldn’t hurt a duck, would he? She quacked and stepped out from her hiding place. 

He pulled the sword from his belt and aimed it at her heart. “Who are you?”

Her mouth opened, how did he…?

The knight, at the river. It was him. 

She quacked loudly and flew above his head, but he was quicker, with a gloved hand, he grabbed her foot and slammed her onto the ground. She quaked weakly, it hurt, but she was trying to escape, her heart pumping, a small bit of pain wouldn’t stop her. 

Except, the knight did. He pinned her wings to the floor, stooped over her. He said something, blocked by his helmet, and there was a strange sensation that spread over her. 

Then, she looked up at him with the eyes of a human, rather than a ducks.

She was pinned under him, completely naked, and she didn’t have her arms to cover herself.

“Ahiru?” He said, through the helmet. 

She panicked, how did he know her name? 

He removed one hand from his hold on her arms and removed his helmet. 

She couldn’t stop herself from crying out his name, from wrapping her arms around his neck. “Fakir, Fakir you’re here.”

She peeled herself away, and even though she had changed, so had he. 

Like her own skin, he had tanned, his skin darker even than hers, bringing out the green in his eyes. His dark hair was longer, held back in a low ponytail that spilled over his shoulder; his jaw, as a boy it had been round, was square, and although he was shaven, there was still a rough patch of stubble. 

She swallowed hard, never in her life had she imagined herself finding her best friend to be so handsome. 

“Fakir…” She said, softer, her eyes lazily trailing over his face, to his lips. 

“Ahiru. How are you here? I thought you were dead?” 

She shook her head. “No, I escaped, but I might have been the only one able. Everyone else… is…”

“I know. I heard the reports.” His face was growing red, and he did his best to keep his eyes locked with hers, but that didn’t stop them from wandering. “You’re- you’re here. In my tent. Under me.”

“Fakir, are you ready? The tournaments about to start!” A voice called from outside. 

For a moment Fakir didn’t respond, he brought his hand to his mouth, and with his teeth pulled the glove away. 

“Fakir!” 

“Tell Mytho other matters have come up.” He yelled back. With his bare hand, he touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes. He rose away from her, but she grabbed his hand. “Give me a minute.” He told her, squeezing her hand in his own.

He walked outside of the tent, and Ahiru pulled herself up, she drew her legs to her chest. 

He came back in and tied the tent closed. He removed the other glove and with his bare hands he removed the cape tied to this shoulders, and offered it to her.

She smiled, taking it and draping it over herself, thankful that she wasn’t naked before him.

“Would you help take off my armor?” He asked. 

Ahiru nodded, she stood and came next to him, she made quick work of untying the ties that held the chest plate and the back together. 

He pulled off the rest of the armor, and he turned to her, resting his hands on her arms. 

“Ahiru.” He said again, with uncertainty, as if to make sure it was really her. 

She nodded. “I’m here. I found you.” She lifted her own hands, touching his arms, still covered by his shirt. 

He wrapped himself around her. Against his chest, she could hear his heart pounding. 

He kissed the top of her head. “You stopped writing me.”

“You stopped writing me! I waited everyday for a letter from you!” Her lip trembled. She waited everyday for a letter from him, for his words to comfort her, for some happiness, for some hope.

“I was here, I’m sorry, I didn’t have as much time, please. Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.” She said, but she felt the tears roll down her face. “I’m not.”

“Ahiru, in all that time, did you ever wonder if I-”

She shook her head. “No, I knew you would come back to me. You had to, I was never able to-”

“Able to what?”

She pulled away from his chest and looked up at him, he had grown so much taller than she remembered, her neck craned to look up at him. 

Her eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, she wanted to tell him everything, how in their years apart she cried herself to sleep because he was gone, that his letters were the only source of her happiness, that she would read them over and over, that she dreamed of him returning, asking for her hand in marriage, and he would fight any suitor who tried to dissuade him.

It wasn’t until that moment, as he held her so closely to him that she realized, the pounding of her heart was more than just the excitement she felt at seeing him again, but the love she felt for him. 

She moved her hands, trailing up his chest, against the loose fabric of his shirt, to his jaw, she ran a finger over his lip, her hands moved to the back of his head, and she pulled him down. 

Rising up on her tip toes, he pulled her waist towards him, tilting his head until the moment their lips met. 

She sighed contently, but when she made to stand back, his hand shot up to tilt the back of her head as he kissed her again.

So, he loved her as well then?

She smiled against his mouth, and pulled back, asking him if he did.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since you told me your name.” He said. “I’ve been in love with you since you saved me from the Rabe Kingdom, from the moment you said my name on your pretty lips. Parting from you, I could barely take it, but it was what you wished for.”

“I wished for you to be free of me. It’s what you wanted.”

“No, I’ll never be free of you.” He said, shaking his head. 

“But, you are.” 

He brushed his lips against hers. “No, I am your slave, you own me, heart, mind, body, and soul. I am yours.”

“You are mine?”

“I am.” Cradling the back of her head, he pressed his lips to hers harshly, but it was something they needed, something forceful and painful, they needed to communicate the pain of lost time outside of words. He drew back, placing a softer kiss on her lips. “Marry me.”

She stood in front of the throne, she had been cleaned and bathed, her hair hung in the most complex style she had worn in years. 

Prince Siegfried stood before her, trying to remember where he knew her from.

Fakir stood by her side, but only as a humble knight, not as her husband. 

“She is the Princess Ahiru of Pekin’s.”

“Everyone from Pekin’s died.” Mytho shook his head, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Fakir was right.

“Prince Siegfried.” Ahiru said, she curtsied before him. “You may not remember me, but I stood next to my mother in court on one of the many occasions you came for the summer, and when I came to you.”

“I want to believe.” He said. “Then we’d have a chance against Rabe.”

“Mytho, I am the Princess, my mother was crowned Queen, and now that she is dead, it is my kingdom I have come to defend.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“I feared you wouldn’t recognize me.”

He nodded. “But, I do. I do recognize you, if not yourself, I see so much of your mother in you.” 

She smiled. “Really?”

“Yes, I do.” He clasped her shoulder. “Princess Ahiru, welcome to Schwan Kingdom.”

Fakir smiled at her, and knelt with the rest of the court. 

Fakir sat atop his steed, his hand tracing her face. 

“Don’t go.” She begged. “Please, don’t go.”

“I have to. Once I come back, we won’t have to be separated anymore.”

She kissed the palm of his hand and he pulled away, he rode off with the rest of the army and Ahiru stood with the rest of the wives and mothers, waving goodbye to their lovers and sons.

He was gone for months, everyday she looked out the window, waiting for his return, like she had, standing in the Pekin palace, all those years ago. 

The battle in the Rabe Kingdom was bloody and unforgiving, Fakir watched many of his friends and fellow soldiers go down, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Ahiru waited for him. 

Fakir stood in the throne room of the Rabe kingdom, on Mytho’s side. 

They stood with their swords brandished, their teeth bared, as the king held a sword to the throat of a woman.

“Come closer,” He snarled. “I dare you.”

Fakir looked out the window, above where the King stood, where Lysander and Autor stood positioned and ready to ambush the King. 

But, the King saw Fakir’s wandering eyes, he turned, forgetting the prisoner in his hand, the blade sliced her throat and she fell to the ground. 

Mytho let out a yell of rage and attacked the king, his sword held high and Fakir ran to the woman, bleeding out on the floor. 

He recognized her dark skin, her eyes green as the trees, but the light inside of them was fading.

“‘Umi.”

“Fakir, abnay.” She smiled at him, her hand rested on his cheek, tears tracked down her own. Her hand slipped from his face, Fakir did his best to stop the bleeding, and the more he looked at it, the more he saw that it only cut her flesh. 

She would live.

“Fakir,” Mytho came and patted his shoulder. “We won.” 

Fakir stood, the woman in his grasp. 

“Fakir, who is that?”

“She is the Queen of Bilut. My mother.” 

Ahiru cried when she saw the horses enter the kingdom, she ran out of the castle, past those who didn’t know the war was over. 

“They’re back!” Someone shouted. “The knights are back!” 

Ahiru ran until she stood in the way of the knights, about half of the size that had left. 

Many dismounted, running into the arms of their lovers, others telling mothers their sons had perished. 

But it didn’t matter to her, she looked for Fakir, for his horse. 

She smiled when she saw him, and at the same moment, he saw her. 

He leapt off his horse and ran to her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her off the ground and holding her close to his chest. 

Both were filled with joy and love, they couldn’t stop the sahar leaking out, surrounding them in thousands of lights like stars. 

She pressed her forehead against his, laughing and he tried to kiss her open mouth.

“Stop laughing and let me kiss you.” He scolded her.

She pursed her lips together, and he kissed her, but soon she was laughing again. “You’re back, you came back.”

“I promised didn’t I?”

“Promised what?”

“That I would stay by your side, I don’t intend on breaking my promises, or my vows.” He kissed her cheeks, and they held each other close.

The Rabe King dead, his war over, they could live in peace. 

“Now we are truly free.” She said. 

He nodded. “Yes, now we are free. I want you to meet someone.” 

Behind him was a horse with a female rider, she had yet to dismount, and waited for Fakir to offer her his hand.

“Ahiru this is my mother.”

Ahiru’s eyes grew wide as Fakir turned to his mother and spoke to her in their language, there was a bandage around her neck.

“She is the Queen of the Bilut Kingdom. She wants us to come back with her.”

Ahiru looked at the Queen and nodded.

“Wait, you’re a prince?”

Fakir smirked. “Amyr Fakir. The title given to a prince in my land.”

Ahiru looked back at the palace, where Rue and Mytho still lived, where the knights who Fakir considered friends still lived, she would miss them all, but with the grace of her mother, she put her duty as a princess before her heart.

She bowed to the Queen, and then to Fakir. “It would be an honor to return with you.” 

Fakir smiled, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, holding her close to his chest, his heart. 

And finally, they were free.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Umi - mom  
Abnay - my son  
Sahar - magic  
Bilut - Oak  
Amyr - Prince


End file.
